


Lonely Moon

by moonofmorrigan



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst and Porn, F/M, Oral Sex, Reader-Insert, Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 09:04:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8660875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonofmorrigan/pseuds/moonofmorrigan
Summary: Thranduil x Reader. Under the light of a beautiful moon, you and King Thranduil comfort and pleasure each other on a lonely night.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A good track to listen when reading this is "A Night of Love" from the "Mists of Avalon" ost. Oddly enough "Skyfall", "This Time" by Y&T, and Entwine's "Closer" helped me along with writing this as well. I know, 80s/90s rock.... Love it or hate folks.
> 
> This PWP ignores Tolkien's ideals regarding Elves marriages continuing even after death, commitment, hooking up with a human, and sex in general. So, please do not get ticked off at me for writing a fic about Thranduil being lonely and giving in to the desire to seek comfort in a willing pair of arms.

**Disclaimer: This story is a work of fanfiction for The Hobbit/Lord of the Rings, and is not endorsed by the originator(s) of the work. All official characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement, offense, or solicitation is intended. This story has been written for entertainment value only. No profit is being made from this writing.**

 

 

**LONELY MOON**

**by MoonofMorrigan**

 

The moon was bright and full, closer to the world than you had seen it in many years. It's glow was so bright that it filled the darkened room with silvery light. Standing on the precipice overlooking the vast forest of Eryn Lasgalan you feel overwhelmed, and very alone. You had come to the King's halls as a lost traveler. Not unusual in this enchanted place, but you had heard rather disturbing reports from the dwarfs of the king's treatment of trespassers.

 

However, the king did not throw you or your small party in the dungeons, but being open and honest with your travels, the purpose of your journey, and that you had simply lost your way on his paths, you found him to not only be not what you were led to believe, but even pleasant to be around.

 

You were journeying to Rohan to see a violently ill friend. However, elves from King Thranduil's halls that traveled outside the forest sent word that your friend had died only the day after your rescue from aimlessly traveling the winding paths of the king's forest. You were not close to the friend, but it filled you with melancholy nonetheless. The king sympathized with you and your travel companions over your loss, and offered for your party to stay longer in order to recover from your friend's passing.

 

You had spent the good part of a fortnight in this vast realm, and had grown fond of it. More to the point you had grown very fond of the king himself. Or rather, extremely infatuated with him. He, however, you were sure held no regard for you, other than being a host to weary, grief-stricken travelers, and you did your best to hide your attraction from him and the others.

 

This moon, and the beauty of the land stretched out before you seemed to enter your actual soul, and fill you with a deep unrest. An unsettling longing that sent you deep in the throws of loneliness and desire for someone you were quite sure you could never have.

 

"I have not seen a moon such as this in over a decade," you hear a deep masculine voice say quietly behind you. You jump in surprise, and turn to face the voice's owner with trepidation.

 

Thranduil leans against the wall of the cavern, a warm silken cloak hanging over his shoulders and arms. The usual long robes are gone, with only a thigh length silver tunic, and black trousers being all that he is wearing besides the cloak. There isn't a crown upon his head you note. Instead his silvery golden hair falls about him like a waterfall across his shoulders and down his back. He looks quite like a very beautiful man who is readying himself to take his rest for the night, you muse.

 

"Yes," you look away and back up at the moon, "I was just thinking the same thing." _Among other things._

 

"I rather thought you would be asleep at this hour", you hear him say, barely able to hear his soft footfalls as he crosses the room, and stands next to you.

Standing next to him, you look up and can't help noticing how much he towers above you, then when your eyes meet his you feel a blush come to your cheeks, and you look away again.

 

You swallow the lump that seems to have formed in your throat, and attempt to banish the fluttering in your stomach, willing your heart to stop pounding so fiercely. "I am unable to tonight. I feel restless I suppose."

 

"Is it the loss of your friend?" he asks in a voice that seems to convey sympathy, or at least feign concern.

 

You chance another look at him, which is a mistake because you blush again while shaking your head, and end up chewing on your bottom lip for several seconds before vocalizing your response, "No, I'm afraid not your majesty." You force yourself to look at him and conjure up an old saying from your home regarding what you're feeling. You're hoping he knows what it means, yet at the same time hoping he doesn't, "You could say the moon is in my blood." Again, you quickly look away into the night.

 _There. You said it. You are filled with_ _a_ _restless need to love and be loved this night, and the emptiness of your bed makes it unbearable to lie in. Even if he knows the expression, it's impossible that he'll know you long for him in particular. Does it really matter if he does? He will never want you in such way. He is an elf. A widowed elf. It will never come to pass._

You can feel him regarding you as these thoughts go through your mind. Finally, he says in a voice that you almost can not hear, "I guess this moon has the same effect on both of us."

 

Unsure what he means by that, you look at him with perplexed eyes. You notice (or is it perhaps you just reading more into it than there is) that his own expression is changed. The unemotional mask has slipped away, and a softer, but heartbreaking look has taken it's place. Plus something else. Something that looks like hopeful realization. At least that's what it looked like to you. Or is that just the longing for him to want you taking over?

 

Perhaps you should leave? He undoubtedly came here to be alone.

 

You bow towards him, "I am disturbing you at your leisure time. Forgive me. I will take my leave."

 

You begin to walk away without looking at him, when he catches your hand in his. You look from your hand to his face in confusion and shock. You feel your brow narrow in confusion.

 

"It is in my blood too," he says then brings your hand up to brush his lips on your knuckles. "Perhaps, you..." He looks down, and up, and suddenly he seems so vulnerable and exposed to you, "Perhaps we can ease each others longing and need for another tonight."

 

You feel your mouth drop open in shock, then force it to close, when you notice the look he had of invitation and hope on his face is replaced by embarrassment, the mask he usually wore starts falling back into place.

 

"Forgive me.. I shouldn't have suggested it." He lets go of your hand and turns away looking out at the horizon with a deep breath.

Realizing your losing your chance with him, even if it is for just one night, you quickly clasp his hand in yours firmly and come to stand close to him once more.

"No, please. Forgive _me._ I would... gladly accept your... attentions to me tonight." you reassure him, not sure of how the most delicate way of saying what you have on your mind, if he wants it to go that far, is far from unwelcoming to you. You cringe thinking of how idiotic that had to sound.

He chuckles and turns back to you, slowly reaching a hand out to touch your cheek. He looks upon you with an appreciation you had never noticed before, one that mimicked your own longing for him. He gently caresses your cheek, then runs his fingertips over your bottom lip.

"I long to kiss you," he says in a voice dripping with a deep sense of desire.

His eyes flick up for a brief moment to meet yours, and you can not help the smile that comes to your face as you softly offer your consent, "Again, I welcome it, my lord."

A twitch at the edge of his lips appears as he leans down, "To you, on this night, and any we share after it, I am simply Thranduil."

He gathers you into his arms at this and crushes his lips upon yours. You tangle your hands in his hair behind his neck, and feel him pull you even closer still when your mouths part and tongues entwine with each other, tasting the other, and finally he breaks away suckling your bottom lip for a long moment before you reclaim his mouth and imitate his earlier action. It had been a long time since you had layed with anyone. It was intimidating to you in a way.

 

Yet it was coming back to you with each kiss, and each fluttering touch you each chanced along the others body. The cloak about his shoulders had since fallen away and you could feel his erection rubbing against your groin in a rhythmic motion set forth by nature itself. It made the tingling sensation of lust pool in your abdomen resulting in you feeling your loins becoming extremely wet with each movement.

 

You find yourself kissing his neck and sucking his earlobes between your teeth, each moan, sigh or whisper of desire he expresses urging you on. You kiss him in tender longing one moment and with fevered earnestness the next. When you finally find the clasps to his tunic you begin to undo each one in turn, and dip your hands inside feeling the heat of his chest on your hands, the muscles taut and lean on your fingertips. Your lips find their way to his nipples which you kiss and suck at as you would have him do to your own. After which you trail your lips up his chest, to his collarbone and kiss him at the joint of his neck and chest, just before making your way to the spot right behind his ears.

 

He runs his lips over your neck, and his hands slide along your spine and over your aching breasts. He kneads them through the fabric of your gown, and you can't help cursing the cloth that separates his skin from yours in your mind. He kisses your shoulders and slips his hands to your waist, and rests them on your hips beginning to push you to step backwards.

 

Trusting that he knows what he's doing, and isn't going to send you off the cliff side, you let him, until finally, you feel your back pressing against a wall. You feel him gather the sides of your skirt in his hands, pushing the fabric up your thighs, the hem slowly rising as he pulls it higher and higher until it is just barely covering your buttocks and groin. The next second you feel him cup your aching loins in his hand, and his fingers begin to work in sensual circles and rubs on the nub of your clit and the lips of your pussy which causes you to become wetter and wetter with each knowledgeable movement his hand makes. It makes you want him more than ever, and when he finally slips a single digit, then a second within you and begins to rock them in and out of you in a rhythm that is painfully slow, but so pleasant, you feel your body clutch about his fingers and into his obliging hand in an orgasm.

 

His mouth which had been working at the exposed skin of your shoulders claims your open mouth once more as you cry out in wonderful, sensual satisfaction. Teasing your bottom lip with his teeth, and in a breathless voice he whispers, “Don't get too far ahead my dear. I am far from finished with you yet.”

You feel him continue to work his hand against you and your hips begin rocking in time with his movements.

 

“Take me...” you plead, as his cheek brushes along your own and he begins to lick and nip at your neck , and earlobe.

 

He turns back giving you a wicked smile, and says, “Not yet. I want to make you scream with delirious ecstasy before I take my pleasure from you.”

Not knowing how he could elicit more from you than he already has without completely unclothing both of you, and claiming you completely you look on at him in wonder. He kneels down before you, pulling your hem up higher and pushes at the insides of your thighs to urge you to spread your legs a little further. Confused as to what he intended to do, you hesitate at first then give in. Once you do you're sent almost over the edge in erotic shock waves when he presses his lips to your clit and begins to lick and suck at it.

You let out a deep moan coupled with a whimper, and you find it impossibly difficult to breath normally. You find your hands grabbing his shoulders, and one hand straying unconsciously going to the back of his head. You want to push his mouth further on you but are afraid to. No one had ever done something like this to you before.

 

Your legs start feeling like jelly, and with it you open yourself more to him, as he continues to lick your hot spot, and kiss you along your thighs and the lips of your private area. Each time stopping his ministrations to your clit just before he pushes you over the edge completely. It drives you mad. You hear yourself continuously saying his name, and calling upon all that is holy in your pleasure. It was just as he said it would be, you were becoming delirious with ecstasy, and you were helpless now. At his mercy in a delightful, torturous way as he continued to pleasure you with his mouth, now even dipping the tip of his tongue on and off inside you. Finally, as you feel the tidal wave of a huge climax that you are unable to pull back from overtake you, you shout out, “I'm coming!”

 

You can feel rather than see the smile he has on his face. He doesn't let up however, but laps at your center points of pleasure with more eagerness than before.

 

A scream escapes your lips, something you had never had happen to you before as your back arches, and with closed eyes you see stars and become unaware of anything else in that moment other than the power of your orgasm washing over you.

 

When you return to your senses and open your eyes, you see him getting up from his kneeling position and pushing you firmly against the wall. You feel drained, but then slowly brought back into the throws of passion again when he kisses your neck and his hands move to the back of your dress, tugging the lacings loose. When he finally undoes the last one he moves away for moment pushing the sides of the gown over your shoulders and both of you watch as it falls away, pooling at your feet. The wall feels rough and cold on your skin, but you are distracted from that by him freeing himself of his tunic and undoing the buttons and lacings of his trousers in a frenzied pace. He pushes himself against you then, his mouth and a hand going straight for your newly exposed breasts and their hardened nubs, as his other hand grabs your backside.

 

“Oh my gods,” you moan out as he takes one between his teeth and sucks on it, flicking his tongue across it over and over as he does. His massages and rubs at the other gently but with undoubted loss of patience from holding back his own needs. After what seems like a long, exquisite, but torturous time he releases your aching paps and while his hand joins the other at your buttocks, his mouth kisses your lips once more.

 

You taste yourself on his lips, and are reminded of the sensations it brought you causing you to sigh. He refuses to relinquish the pleasure of having your bottom lip between his teeth and pushes himself harder against you, and in turn harder against the wall behind you. You can feel his erection between your legs once more, and you feel a hand leave your backside, then grasp your own hand which had been wrapped around his neck, and you feel his skin on your fingertips as he slides your hand down inside his pants.

 

“Touch me,” he breathes out and goes back to kissing you until you are unable to hardly breathe.

 

You feel the hardened flesh with fingertips confined inside the fabric, and you dip your hand lower, firmly taking him into your hand. He moans with closed eyes when you do this and you use your other hand to pull his trousers down lower to release him from their confines. Once freed you begin to stroke him, and you hear him say in Elvish, “Yes, that is perfect my love,” against your parted lips.

 

After but a few minutes of this, he let's out a frustrated growl, and then grabs the backs of your thighs and pulls your legs up around his waist, locking you in place. Your hand leaves his member with this motion to grasp him by the shoulders in order to remain in place.

 

“I can't wait anymore. I want you too much,” he purrs out, just before you feel him slide carefully inside you, and begin thrusting in a wild rhythm. The position opens you widelyto him, and letting him penetrate you deeply. The sensation runs the length of your body and reawakens you completely with each jolt of his hips.

 

The feeling would be absolute bliss if only you weren't pressed against this damned wall! You push yourself off of the wall as much as possible and more into him, as the rhythm causes the rough cavern wall to feel like sandpaper on your skin.

 

Suddenly, all at once he leaves your body with a curse and sets you down gently. You give him a confused look. _Did he come already?_ You wonder.

 

He grabs your hand and draws you back to where his cloak lay abandoned on the ground. “I think it best if we do this laying down. I think it will be more comfortable for you,” he remarks as he bends down spreading the cloak out, “Forgive me, I forgot how rough the walls were in this portion of the palace.”

 

So, he had noticed? You were trying to not make it so obvious. Once he has the cloak spread out on the ground, he takes the rest of his trousers off, then pulls you to him and on top of him as he lays back. You smile and swing your other leg over him, sitting up as you straddle him. He looks up at you with a smile and runs his hands over your belly and upwards to your breasts.

  
You don't hesitate, and you move yourself over his still erect member and carefully take him within you again. As his hands run over you, his eyes don't leave yours as you build up a rhythm that isn't too slow, but not as wildly fast as his own had been.

 

You watch as he closes his eyes and his hands come to a rest at your buttocks which he kneads on and off. You hear him moan and occasionally whimper as you continue to rock your hips against him. You are unable to keep from admiring how beautiful he is especially under this moon, and in this light which seemed to make his whole body glow.

  
You hear him whisper your name, and say in Elvish “I need you. Don't stop. Please, don't stop.”

  
He keeps repeating it over and over with closed eyes, and you start to feel his palms clasping the flesh of your backside slightly tighter, as your own pleasure starts to mount up. It forces you to pick up the speed of your rhythm. Making you both moan in delight until finally waves of orgasm begin to crash over you again, then climaxing in onefinal tidal wave of glorious bliss much like the one he had coaxed out of you before.

  
When you are able to focus on him again you find him writhing beneath you with tightly shut eyes, and only seconds later, him shouting out your name in a strangled, erotic cry, and something else in Elvish that you can't make out other than the word “union”.

You ride him for a few more brief, but hard thrusts to finish off the aftershocks both of you are having from your orgasms, and finally finding yourself completely spent you collapse on him.

His hands slide up to your back and he gathers you tightly in his arms. You can hear his racing heart beating in his chest. Then you let out a small gasp when you feel him fall away from within you.

  
“Promise me that _you_ will not leave here after this night with the haste the rest of your party seems to now have,” you hear him say quietly.

You shift your weight off of him, and think of what to say. There was talk of leaving in a a day or so. However, you personally would gladly stay here forever if he would let you. You had little family to go home to anyway. Not very many would be there to miss your absence keenly. Plus knowing you will be here, those that would feel it, would know you are safe. Finally, you think of the perfect way to answer him, “I will stay. I vow _I_ will stay with you as long as you wish me to.”

You hear him chuckle before he speaks, “Then you will never go. Only you have been able to distract me from my loneliness in all these long years.”

You smile, and continue to listen to his heart beginning to slow. Even if these words are meaningless to him in the morning, you can't help but feel the joy they leave you with. You can't help it as you believe this night has made you fall a little bit in love with him, “If that will be your desire, my lord. I will gladly stay with you as long as you will it.”

 

 

 

~FINISH~


End file.
